Chapter 37 #2
Every brain cell is screaming that this is the wrong decision.
My life is in London, and my career is in London.
Brad has assured me that he will support my work—he has a lot of pull in high places in the world of entertainment.
Which could be positive or negative for me, and he has the levers to make either come true.
Celia was extremely encouraging of my move to the other side of the pond.
She told me that is where I need to be to make it to the big time in the world of publishing.
When I started writing, it was an escape.
Creating a career was not on my agenda. I feel as though I blinked and suddenly I’m here—with a career, a purpose, and something to lose.
And I don’t think I could handle it if I did.
The buzzer rings, announcing someone at the door. It can’t be the car already; Brad has only been gone ten minutes. On auto-pilot, I hit the entry button without checking who it is. Amy’s jaw drops open.
“Did your mother not teach you about strangers? You don’t just buzz someone in without checking who it is first!” she hisses.
I laugh at her dramatics.
“I doubt it’s a serial killer, Amz. It’s probably Brad, back to check I’ve not run off.” She rolls her eyes and grimaces. I wander over to the door, leaving it off the latch before heading to my bedroom to give it one final look for anything I’ve missed.
I feel his presence before I see him. He’s standing in the doorway, blocking the light from the rest of the apartment.
“You wanted to talk?” he drawls, and I spin.
“Lance?” I stutter. “What are you doing here?”
“You wanted to talk. I prefer talking face to face, especially about the kind of subjects we need to cover. So here I am.” He holds his arms out wide to emphasize his point. “Judging by the fact your cases are at the front door, I assume you’re still leaving. When’s your flight?”
My mouth drops open, my jaw bobbing with no words.
“It leaves soon,” Amy calls from behind him. “The American twat is at the café down the road. .”
“So we have some time…” Lance replies.
“I’ll go down there and stall him so you two have more,” she says, then skips out the front door.
It slams shut behind her, and I’m left looking at the man in front of me.
One who makes my heart beat faster from a single hello.
A man who’s made me feel safer than I ever had in my life. One who is too young to be mine.
“You wanted to talk?” he prompts, his voice level with a hint of ice. It’s like he’s hardened himself for today, that he’s keeping the softness I love buried deep.
“Lance, why are you in London?”
He shrugs but remains silent.
“Did you come all this way just to talk to me? We could have spoken on the phone.”
“True,” he agrees. “But then I couldn’t see your reactions properly or tell whether you were telling me the truth. I’m not sure what’s real and what’s not with you, Katie.”
Tears spring to my eyes. His expression stays calm, but the pain becomes clear.
I’ve hurt this beautiful man with my untruths.
Why couldn’t things have been different?
Him, twenty years older, or me, twenty years younger.
If I had a magic lamp, I would wish for us to be in the same decade. For us to be possible.
“I’m sorry.” My eyes drop to the floor in shame.
I hear him walk toward me cautiously. He doesn’t touch me, but his proximity makes my breathing spike.
“I was so happy to see you in Edinburgh. I didn’t want to upset the moment.
Every time I tried to tell you about Brad, I was too scared I would lose you. ”
“Lose me?” he says, confused. “How can you lose me when we aren’t together? I was hoping there might be a chance for us, Katie. We reconnected, and everything felt right. I know we were just being friends, but you know as well as I do that we can’t just be friends.”
He places his finger under my chin and raises my eyes to meet his, giving me a slow, sexy smile. My body reacts instantaneously to his touch, all my senses on high alert, my inner vixen begging him for more.
“Your body talks to mine. They call each other. They need each other. It’s been a long time since we’ve been together, but I know you want it, too.
When I’m inside you, I’m home.” He leans forward and kisses the side of my mouth gently; an intimate gesture filled with promise.
In that moment, there’s a pang of hope. My chest swells, my hands move to lift to his neck. Everything becomes natural.
“You fucking whore,” Brad yells as he launches himself across the room and connects with Lance’s back. “Is this the prick that phoned? Is he here to win you back?” His face is red with rage, muscles tensed, ready to fight.
I duck around Lance and go to Brad, grabbing his arms, pushing him backward. It does nothing. He keeps walking until he’s nose to nose with Lance. I’m sandwiched between them.
“No, honey,” I try to soothe, my voice cracking as he leans over me. Lance doesn’t move—not a milliliter. But he’s eerily calm. “Lance is an old friend. He came to see me before I leave.”
“Lying bitch,” he hisses, pushing me sideways.
I think he’s going for Lance, but then his fist connects with my jaw.
Then ground comes fast, and I crumple in a heap before blows connect with my head.
I lift my hands to cover my face, and the warm ooze of blood coats my fingers.
“I’ll make you so fucking ugly. No one will ever want you. ”
Suddenly, the pressure vanishes. Brad bellows in anger as Lance wrestles him into the living room, closing the bedroom door and locking it. Brad pounds on the other side, frantic with rage.
“Katie,” Brad screams, “you listen to me. You’re mine. If you don’t come with me now, your career is over. Say goodbye to being an award-winning author. Be downstairs in ten minutes or I’ll make your life a living hell. You know I can.”
Lance grabs a towel from a shelf, then dabs my bleeding nose, the white cotton soaking red.
“Has he hit you before?” he asks softly. I shake my head, willing my tears to stop . “Do you want to report him to the police?”
“No,” I squawk. Our eyes lock. “He’ll ruin me. I have to go with him.”
“What?” he growls. “Over my dead body. You can’t go with him. He’ll hurt you, and next time I won’t be there to stop him.”
“Lance,” I say, taking his face between my hands. “I’m not the woman for you. You need to move on and forget me. Our time together will always have a special place in my heart, but there’s no future for us. I’m meant to be with Brad. I’m moving to New York.”
“No, Katie. I can’t let you do this. I love you.”
Everything shatters. My hopes, my dreams, the wish of living my own love story. The one standing in front of me, I can’t have. The one that doesn’t fit with who I am, or who he is.
“It’s not your choice to make,” I say.
I know I must push him away. Hurt him, so he walks away and doesn’t look back. “Lance, I don’t love you. You and I were no more than harmless fun. Now go home and get on with your life. My future’s not with you.” I step back, pushing his hands away. “And I don’t want it to be.”